An Old Legend
by The Desert Dancer
Summary: After having vanquished Attis and his Mutant Army, the Initiates Cyrus, Cain and Nadia return to the town of Carbon and enjoy a few bottles of alcohol. When they get there, they bump into an old man who has a few secrets. Rated T for course language and adult themes. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

An Old Legend

 **I have no idea what I am doing, and I suspect that I'm losing my marbles a bit XD I mean, look at this! I'm writing for a game that officially isn't considered part of the Fallout timeline. I'm probably gonna stuff this up and get the characters wrong, given my lack of knowledge with this particular game, but I do hope you guys and gals enjoy it!**

 **I do not own Fallout: Brotherhood of Steel, that belongs to Interplay Entertainment.**

As the sun rose above the Wastelands, washing the irradiated Texan deserts in a warm glow. In the town of Carbon, a trio of friends were making themselves comfortable in the newly furnished bar. A great blow had been dealt to the town, after raiders had laid siege and destroyed everything in their path, with the bar having been dealt the worst blow. The old wooden building had been burnt to the ground and the owner, the jovial Armpit, had passed away with his bar. The people of Carbon had rebuilt the building, or at least tried to rebuild it with what materials were available. And while they had managed to do a somewhat decent job at this, the smell of charred wood was still evident, as if it the stench had been soaked into the very air itself.

One of the trio, a man, was currently leaning against a nearby wall, a bottle of beer clenched tightly in his hand. The man was a hulking individual, encased within a set of weathered and scratched power armour. His head was shaved bald with an extended goatee, and he had darkened skin that was covered in tattoos and scars, highlighting the amount of abuse and pain the man had put himself through. The man looked at the rest of the patrons of the bar, a scowl etched onto his face.

"Look at them, staring." Cyrus muttered, shaking his head. "Like we're freaks."

The female of the trio turned around to face Cyrus, an unimpressed look on her face. The woman had short brown hair and pale skin, with green eyes that were tinged with an iciness that could force any enemy to freeze in their tracks. Dressed in dirty combat armour, the woman had a smirk on her face as she faced Cyrus.

"Just enjoy the day, my friend." Nadia muttered as she shook her head in amusement. "We defeated Attis and his army, and we saved the day. Why can't you be like Cain and enjoy things?"

The final member of this trio lifted his irradiated head, his groggy eyes focused straight ahead. The Ghoul mercenary's skin was tinged a sickly green and peeling away at certain places, exposing the weak muscles underneath. His lips had rotted away many years ago, leaving his face to be contorted into a permanent grin. The Ghoul's armour was a mishmash of rusted metal and worn leather, seemingly a perfect fit for the broken down man that wore it.

"Gotta say, the bitch is right." Cain grunted. "We whooped those muties and showed them who's boss."

"Bitch?" Nadia inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"Seen ya gut a man, and not give a shit." Cain explained. "Takes one cold-hearted lady ta do that, and I'm a fuckin' mercenary."

"Hate to admit, but Ghoul is right." Cyrus grunted, as he sat down on a nearby stool. "You are cold, uncaring. You don't just kill, you slice and slash and want to hurt."

"I don't understand the problem here, you two." Nadia answered, an unimpressed tone to her voice. "I prefer to use melee weapons and I just want to make sure that my enemies are dead, that's all."

"Ah dove, yar just a violent bitch." Cain grunted. "Ain't exactly a problem; after all, big boy and me enjoy a bit of rough n' tumble."

"And yet you still are an uncivilized mercenary." Nadia muttered, taking a sip from her bottle of whiskey. "And there goes any hope that the Brotherhood could have taught you some manners."

"I've been 'round since the bombs dropped, little dove." Cain responded. "Too much of an old dog, ta learn some new tricks."

"Old dog, eh?" Cyrus inquired.

"Hoy big boy, take a step back." Cain growled. "I might be an old fuck, but ain't time ta put me out ta pasture."

Nadia and Cyrus looked at the Ghoul mercenary before they soon broke into peals of laughter, causing Cain to offer the two a foul look. The laughing duo soon became a trio, as a new figure made his presence known. It was an old man, dressed in a dirty robe covered in stains and stitches. The old man had wrinkled skin covered in faded scars and a snowy white beard and hair, but had pale blue eyes that twinkled with intelligence. Nadia, Cyrus and Cain turned to face this old man, interested looks etched on all three of their faces.

"Well lookie here, it's the old coot." Cain muttered. "Whaddya doin' here, eh? Thought you turned tail and fucked off."

"I was planning on leaving here, once the dust had settled, at least until the Raiders came back." The old man answered. "It seems cruel now to leave, given that Carbon is reeling and is in need of assistance."

"And you think that you will be helpful?" Nadia inquired.

"Well, I do have some experience with leading people." The old man chuckled. "And the people of Carbon seem to accept me, as being their new leader, at least until a more permanent solution is found."

"You, leader?" Cyrus stated. "Doubt it would work."

"I think you'll find I'm full of surprises." The old man retorted. "Oh, but where are my manners? You can call me Christopher, or Chris if you wish."

"Thank you for the kindness, but I doubt we will be staying here long." Nadia answered. "We're expected to return to the Brotherhood base by tomorrow, and we only stopped off here as a way to celebrate."

"Ah, well then enjoy the beer." Christopher retorted. "It is on the house."

With that, the old man turned and exited the bar, leaving the three Brotherhood members to enjoy their alcohol. Silence soon reigned, before Nadia began to chuckle in amusement. Cain and Cyrus turned to face their comrade, interested looks on both of their faces.

"What's funny?" Cyrus asked.

"I finally figured out who that old man is." Nadia explained. "The name is a dead giveaway."

"Whaddya talking about, dove?" Cain inquired. "He's just some old codger, with a few loose screws."

"If that helps you sleep at night Cain, believe that." Nadia responded, smiling. "But I doubt most people would appreciate you referring to the Vault Dweller like that."

"Vault Dweller?" Cyrus asked. "That's the old man?"

"I believe he is, yes." Nadia stated. "I guess heroes don't die after all; they just fade into the history books."

 **And my Fallout: Brotherhood of Steel story is done and dusted. Was it any good? Because honestly, I liked writing this a lot but I'm unsure if anyone else will share my opinion. But anyway, I hope you guys and gals did enjoy this somewhat short piece!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Rest Now, My Warrior

 **I do not own Fallout: Brotherhood of Steel, that belongs to Interplay Entertainment**

The old man knew someone was there, before he even turned around. While his body may have started to break down and his mind began to dull, his senses were still as sharp as ever and they were telling him that he was no longer alone in the empty bar. And given how it was late at night and the bar had been closed for about half an hour, definitely didn't inspire any hope within the old man. Letting out a tired sigh, the old man slowly turned around, and was met with a surprise; standing in front of the entrance to the bar, a confident look etched onto her face, was the Initiate called Nadia.

"Well, greetings." Christopher stated with intrigue. "How can I help you?"

"I know who you are, Christopher." Nadia answered. "And I have questions that I would like answered."

The air within the bar seemed to have dropped a few degrees, as the two adults stared at each other. The seconds stretched out and expanded into what felt like minutes, with neither one saying a single thing. Soon, Christopher closed his eyes and shook his head, before sitting down on a nearby bar stool. A sense of weariness washed over the old man, as if the very statement from Nadia had killed all of his enthusiasm. Christopher Simmons, the Vault Dweller of Vault 13, then slowly looked up at Nadia, his pale blue eyes stained with a weariness that only years of hardships could attain.

"How did you figure it out, if I may ask?" The Vault Dweller inquired. "I had thought that I'd kept my identity enough of a secret."

"The name was a tip-off, as well as you being roughly the same age as the Vault Dweller would be right now." Nadia explained. "But the biggest clue was your flask, with the Vault 13 logo plastered on it."

"I should have known that would give me away." Christopher muttered. "That is what I get, for being a sentimental old fool."

"Nothing wrong with holding onto memories." Nadia retorted. "After all, memories are what make a person who they are."

"You're quite philosophical, aren't you?" Christopher stated. "Very rare trait to have, from what I've seen."

"I survived by keeping my ears and mind open, that's all." Nadia answered, shrugging her shoulders. "But what are you doing here, in Carbon? You seem to be pretty far from home."

"Why are you interested in the reasoning of an old fool?" Christopher asked.

"You are the Vault Dweller, the man who vanquished the Master and his mutant army." Nadia explained. "I can't help but be interested."

"I may have once been the Vault Dweller, but now I'm just an old man with a rusty flask and fading memories." The Vault Dweller retorted. "But I left my home for a simple reason; I had nothing there. I no longer wanted to run my town of Arroyo and my wife, my beautiful Katja had died. All my passion had died, extinguished in one swoop. I needed a new life, to get away from everything, to just try and find that spark I once had before the Wastelands take me away permanently."

"Oh…..I'm so sorry." Nadia muttered. "If, if it's any consolation, I can understand somewhat. I haven't been very close to anyone ever since my parents….we're killed."

"Nothing worse than a child losing their parents." Christopher retorted, a morose tone to his voice. "You have my sympathy, young lady."

The two stood there in silence, the only sound being heard was the wind blowing outside. The Vault Dweller turned to face Nadia, a small smile on his weathered faced, before he reached over to the bar bench and grabbed two beer bottles. Nadia simply looked at Christopher with a raised eyebrow, as she grabbed at one of the beers.

"On the house, don't worry." Christopher stated. "Just think of this as a toast to the past and people we've lost. To auld lang syne, if you will."

"Mr Vault Dweller, I agree with your sentiment." Nadia chuckled, lifting her beer in the air. "To my parents, to Paladin Rhombus, to Patty."

"To Ian, Tycho, Dogmeat and Katja." The Vault Dweller added, also lifting his beer in the air. "Wherever they are now, I hope that it's a better place."

 **And Chapter 2 of An Old Legend is done and dusted. I'd like to thank Mandalore the Freedom and HappinessIsBlau for all their support. Anyway, I hope to see you guys and gals soon!**

 **Love,**

 **The Desert Dancer**


End file.
